


jesus take the wheel

by guardianoffun



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Car Accidents, Gen, Serious Injuries, Sweets POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 04:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun
Summary: “I broke my arm,” he groans. “It hurts.”(Booth and Sweets, moderate to severe car accidents and a whole lot of Feelings!)





	jesus take the wheel

**Author's Note:**

> to preface this 
> 
> a) im rewatching bones from the start and i have Feelings, esp about booth + sweets having a father/son kind of bond and idk if i just can't find em but there's not many other fics out there like that? so i did it myself! 
> 
> b) i olny wrote for bones once when i was like 12 and it was awful. i cannot guarantee i got any better since then. 
> 
> c) i dont know how american roads or hospitals work pls just roll with it
> 
> d) i just wrote this at 2am and am posting it w no beta or anything. enjiy!
> 
> ALSO WARNING FOR mentions of vomiting, serious injures and Bones stuff like that

The sound of creaking metal wakes Sweets from his haze; that and the stabbing pain in his arm. Trying to push up on it, he realises that it’s probably because there’s a bone very much somewhere it shouldn’t be. Like outside of him. He can hear Dr. Brennan in the back of his mind distantly telling him it’s his ulna, but her voice is drowned out by the sudden need to vomit. Instead, he lets out a messy string of expletives before the reality of the situation suddenly hits him and he realises where he is. Booth’s car, which is now lodged firmly in the central reservation. His heart, as physically impossible as it may be, leaps to his throat. With his left hand pinning his very broken right one to his chest, he turns to look at Booth. 

“Agent Booth?” he croaks. The man in question is slumped over the wheel, and Sweets can already see the blood splatter on the dash, and the steady drops pooling in the footwell. It seems a strangely loud sound, till Sweets realises that it’s his heart pounding loud enough he can hear it.

“Oh god,” he hears himself say. His voice cracks and he can feel tears prick in his eyes. “Booth?” He has to stop the panic in his chest he tells himself, because if he starts to panic he’s no use to anyone. Booth needs him to be calm right now, Booth needs him to be the hero.

Biting his lip, he lets his broken arm go so he can fumble in his pocket for his phone and he finds it, fingers automatically hitting keys. He almost lets himself feel relief until a static ringing echoes through the car and Sweets remembers the first number he has saved to speed dial is Booth’s. He lets out an empty laugh, before trying again.

Brennan picks up on the second ring, giving him no time to prepare his words.

“Brennan,” she answers. His mind conveniently empties.

“I broke my arm,” he groans. “It hurts.” He wants to slap himself, he sounds like a child.

“Sweets? What do you mean?” He catches the inflection in her voice, the one that means the she doesn’t understand something.

“Accident,” he gets out. Why can’t he speak properly? Shock? Probably. Thinking is so hard.

“Dr. Sweets, where are you?” Dr. Brennan’s voice snaps him back, and he glances around for some kind of marker. Then his eyes land on the flaming mess ahead of them, the crumpled metal and crumbling walls. What’s left of a gas station is scattered across the highway, and a number of other cars.

“Holy shit,” he manages.

“Dr. Sweets!”

“I, uh, the gas station, it’s… exploded? I don’t uh. Dr. Brennan?” He can hear her footsteps in the background, and a voice that might be Angela’s.

“Yes Sweets, we’re going to come find you. Where’s Booth?” He turns back, and pretending he didn’t whimper as the action sent pain rippling through his arm.

“Next to me, but- I don’t know if he’s-” Panic threatens to swallow him again. Dr Brennan’s breath catches in his ear, so he pulls himself upright, tucks the phone between his shoulder and ear and stretches out his good hand, pressing it to Booth’s neck.

“He’s alive! But Dr. Brennan, he’s not moving, and there’s so much blood, what do I ha-”

“Stay there Sweets, we’re coming to get you, Angela knows where you are. What injuries has Booth sustained?”

He is so not the right person for this, he thinks as he tries to gauge Booth’s condition. Unclipping his seat belt Sweets scoots over as far as his seat allows him. 

“His head is bleeding, and his nose,” he tries to peer over the him, but there doesn’t seem to be anything poking in or out of Booth. 

“His arm might be broken, but I don’t think he got anything stuck in him.”

Then Booths takes shuddering breath.

“He hit the wheel though, his ribs, I think?” He can’t tell, not from here, and not with his arm  _ burning _ like this. Everything hurts, so much.

“Dr. Brennan, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry Sweets, you are doing a good job.” She’s using her lying voice. He realises she’s comforting him. He laughs.

“M’not. I don’t know… bodies…” The world dims briefly, and he hears himself whine. “God, my head…”

“Sweets? Sweets, I need you to stay awake, do you understand? Lance?”

“Don’ worry Dr. Brennan… I got Booth,” he says, right before he passes out.

* * *

He can’t be out too long, because when he comes to there’s still no sirens, ambulance or otherwise. His head still feels like shit but the urge to throw up has gone. Automatically he reaches out to help Booth, but he remembers too many cases where it’s the movement after the traumatic injury that killed someone at the last second. 

Instead he presses a hand to Booth’s shoulder and tries to smile.

“Hold in there Agent Booth, help’ll be here soon.” Booth groans under his hand. Sweets takes that as a good sign, but to be honest he’ll take anything as a sign right now. Booth can’t die, he won’t die.

“Just stay with me yeah? Don’t leave me here, huh?” He doesn’t say  _ ‘because I don’t know what I’d do without you’  _ but he thinks it. Booth makes another noise, or maybe it’s something gurgling in his chest, and it makes the panic bubble in Sweets’ chest again.

“No come on, don’t be like that agent Booth, you cannot leave me to deal with adult situations remember? I’m a.. What was it, a duck?” Though he hadn’t been exactly thrilled to learn Booth and Brennan both thought of him as some sort of lost little animal at first, he has to admit, they are almost like parents in a way, or older siblings. They’re protective of him, almost overly so. Well, this time he has to protect. At the very least he has to stand guard.

“Don’t go leaving me to be a big boy on my own Booth. You know I need you.” He says it before he means to, and he realises Booth probably can’t hear him but it feels strange saying it out loud. For someone whose job is talking about feelings, he doesn’t often voice his, not like this. Booth wouldn’t let him anyways, he’s shut down any attempt of Sweets’ to elicit a proper emotional talk.

“There, that can be your motivation to wake up, you’ve gotta laugh at me for that. You gotta tell me not to go all sappy on you, right?” Booth better not actually remember any of this, he thinks, as he pushes a hand to his neck again, checking his pulse is still doing near enough what it’s supposed to. As good as can be expected. He falls back in his chair, suddenly lightheaded again.

“I love you man,” he says, as dark spots appear across his line of sight. Is he blacking out again?

“I love you,” he hears himself mumble again. Distantly, sirens. Then he passes out again.

* * *

He’s in an ambulance, he thinks. It’s moving, whatever it is, the rocking sensation making his dizzy. He might actually throw up this time. There’s something tangled on his face, everything hurts, and his chest is cold. His head spins. He has no idea what’s going on, and the someone says his name, and a moment later, something cool and wonderful is flooding through his body, smothering the pain and sending him into a much smoother sleep.

* * *

When Sweets finally wakes up properly, he is definitely in a hospital. He’s got a scratchy gown on, and there’s a drip attached to his arm. Whatever’s coming through is more of that good stuff, numbing his arm to a minor ache. He glances down at it and thank god, all his bones are inside him, like they should be. In a cast, but where they should be.

“Lance!” It takes Sweets a moment to realise who said that, and that he isn’t alone in this room. Daisy is at his left, her hands already out towards his, tears in her eyes.

“You’re awake!” He smiles, let’s her throw her arms around him.

“Yeah, I’m fine Daisy, don’t look so scared,” he says, pressing his lips to her cheek and she clutches him.

“Fine?” Angela’s voice says from behind Daisy. “Sweets, you shattered your arm, broke a bunch of ribs and went head first into a car door.” As Daisy pulls back, Angela appears in view, looking weary and Hodgins appears looking thought he’s just woken from his own nap on a hard plastic chair. He yawns and nods.

“Yeah, you’ve been out of it for nearly eight hours man.” he says, and Daisy’s bottom lip wobbles. He reaches out his uninjured hand and entiwines their fingers. Angela cracks a smile.

“We’re glad you’re back though, all of us.” Sweets feels himself blush, and then goes to thank her when he suddenly remembers the people missing from the room.

“Wait, what about agent Booth?”

* * *

He’s fine, of course he’s fine. He’s in another room, with Dr. Brennan at the moment. Apprently they’ve been on rotation the past either hours. Booth woke up at the six hour mark. Aside from a few bruised ribs and a concussion, he’s escaped mostly unscathed. Understandably, they’re keeping him in for observation.

It’s already been a long day, and Sweet’s guests already look shattered. He convinces them he’s alright, tells them to go home and rest. He asks Daisy to help him to Booth’s room before they go. Armed with a wheelchair, they part ways with Angela and Hodgins, and Daisy pushes him along a few more corridors until they stand outside Booth’s room. She bends, presses a kiss to his lips and runs her hand through his hair.

“My hero,” she says, before knocking on the door. Someone must have told Brennan they were coming because she opens the door almost immediately, allowing Daisy to wheel Sweets up to the bed where a tired looking Booth lies.

Sweets smiles, and gets one in return.  Daisy clears her throat and they both glacne at her.

“We’ll give you guys some time.” She ducks out, followed by Brennan, but not before she stops beside Sweets, and smiles too.

“I’m glad you’re alright Sweets.” She says as she leaves, pulling the door closed behind her. Both of them watch as her shadow fades from the door, and then they turn back to each other. Suddenly any words he had wanted to say are gone. Maybe he just needed to see Both, convince his brain that he really was alive. He’s saved though, by Booth speaking up.

“Thanks Sweets.”

“For what?” he asks, genuinely unsure what he’s done to deserve that. Booth shrugs.

“You know, for sticking with me, in the car.” Sweets chuckles.

“It’s not like I was going anywhere.” Booth throws his a withering look, and then sighs.

“You know what I mean. You were there for me, I remember it. I was all out of whack but I could hear you, freaking out to Bones and whatnot.” Sweets groans and buries his face in his good hand.

“You had to hear  _ that  _ bit?” Booth laughs.

“Yeah of course, but hey, you did a good job; I’m not dead!” They both share a smile again, and the room falls into a comfortable quiet. They’re both tired, a bit shaken, and both relieved the other is okay. A while later, once Booth has turned on the tv in the corner and they’ve settled into watching some crappy sci-fi thing, he shoots Sweets a quick look.

“You’re a good kid, Sweets. I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! please lemme know what u thought? <3


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